#jimin drabble

[hoseoksluna]

THE END OF THE WORLD | pjm

pairing: best friend!jimin x f. reader

genre: fluff

rating: 13+

summary: when you thought your period cramps would bring in the end of the world, you didn't realize your feelings for jimin would get reciprocated in the middle of it all.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: reader is on her period; brief mention of period blood, jimin has a cute (non-sexual) fixation on reader's feet, kissing, anxiety, the problematics of heavy thoughts, insecurities and feeling not worthy of good things.

luna's note: this little thing literally came out of nowhere. i started writing this at work on friday when i had severe cramps and i felt soft enough to write a little fluff. where my jimin girls at? i've been heavily fixated on jimin lately, seeking comfort in him, buying pcs from muse photoshoot bc it's my favorite. the jimin i wrote about is an older, buffier jimin with blond hair bc that's my weakness. i hope you like this figment of my imagination and that it makes you as soft as it made me. i love you all, sending kisses mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

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The pain that coursed across your lower tummy felt like the world ending, and your boy friend carried more beauty than a mere mortal could ever achieve. Too bad there was that doomful space between those two words that speak of his role in your life, even though his current position suggests such closeness that those letters could easily melt together. 

Jimin rests the side plane of his face on the middle of your thigh. You repose on the left side of your bed, seemingly bloodless while you exude liters upon liters of the carmine liquid, which makes you wonder how you’re still alive. The wings of your ovaries constrict and constrict, right under his face, reflecting the membrane of his own pair that you’ve watched grow into those of an archangel throughout the trajectory of your life with him. You try to ignore the pain, even as your features twist in helplessness, and instead imagine the colors that could swift through those feathers. 

Pistachio green. Brown that fades into a soft pink. Maybe a little subdued yellow. 

You’ve always thought he was an angel by the way his presence in your day simply made it better. More joyful, more loving, more gentle. But the more you blossomed into adulthood with him, and your frontal lobe developed as well as your unconditional feelings for him, the more you comprehended he was your angel. And not just an ordinary one. 

He was your archangel. 

He would protect you from people that had no space in your life, no luck or love to pepper your nose with. On the packed public transport, he would cover your knees with his hand so no male strangers would touch you with the back of their legs. If a guy came to make a mess out of your life, he would deal with him in a way that would force him to apologize to you and never bother you again. If someone, no matter their gender, caused you sadness in any small or big form, he made sure they regretted it. And, more often than not, your archangel bought you boba. 

You must’ve tried all the flavors from your favorite bubble bar by now. And by all means, crème brûlée was your favorite—only because when you drank it for the first time, you realized that you irrevocably loved the boy with the faux blond hair, pillowy lips, kind heart and confidential tattoos. And when this dawned upon you, it seemed as though Jimin knew—because he blushed and didn’t say anything for a while. The unspoken information, kept safely in the cores of yours and his being, not born into this world. That’s why it’s your favorite. 

It’s the one that is set on your nightstand right now, unopened, with the straw still captive in the translucent foil. It took only one response to his daily how are you text for him to drive to your usual bubble bar on his way to you, and upon seeing the beige peek through the cup, along with the brown sugar syrup, it’s a miracle your knees didn’t give out on you. The fact he chose this drink over all the other ones you love fed your heart the delusions that maybe, just maybe he loved you back. 

That he wasn’t just a kind boy, whose love language was physical touch, and that’s why he’s laying in your lap. 

Maybe, if you did any good in your life, Jimin gazes at you from this lower position while fondling your aching tummy because he feels something deeper than a sympathy for you. 

The pain almost forces you to ask that life-altering question for clarification. Almost. It is on the tip of your tongue, perfect and fluid, breathless and fearless, but you hold it back because Jimin extends one finger and traces patterns on your bloated belly. 

And not just any patterns.

He’s drawing wings. 

His own flutter in the air. Green, brown, pink and yellow. As if he’s giving life to them by drawing a miniature version of them on your clothed skin. And as they flutter, they open and close, open and close. They lift him, leave him hovering above you for a mere second while his hands find a good spot on the mattress outside of the lines of your body, until he settles. His body plops down onto yours, bringing in such heat that you softly gasp and close your eyes at the impact, and you don’t know what to feel, what your hands are doing as they lift, too, and interlock behind his neck, and you don’t know what this is. 

Is this what friends normally do? 

You wouldn’t know. Jimin has been your only boy friend since… forever. And you can’t think properly because the heat penetrating you mingles with your cramps and his body weight messes with your brain, emptying it out until there’s only two sentences that linger. 

One: I love you, Jimin.

Two: We are connected beyond the laws of this world, through strings which are transparent. 

The second sentence only expands, in metaphorical terms, on the first one.

Jimin’s cheek is reddened by his former position in your lap. A circle of soft and wrinkly skin that must be as warm as the rest of him. His blond hair is a bird’s nest, which an entire league of lesser angels must take care of. And his mellow smile gives off such snug light that it reaches his eyes, dissolving there like sparks of a dying fire. 

You love him, and you fail to understand how it has come to be—him laying on top of you. Did you smiling at the cashier in the grocery stop while you paid for your pads earlier get you this blessing? If the world ended in the next minute, you’d be happy, you wouldn’t mind at all because this, this is everything to you. You’re afraid to speak, to break the spell of the moment, and you feign an absolute calmness, not daring to move an inch, despite the fact your internal organs are colored by fireworks that burst and burst as soon as his breathing syncs with yours. 

It’s not that your lungs copied his—his lungs copied yours, and there’s something terribly intimate about that. 

You can’t halt the scarlet tinge rushing through your cheeks, one of the flower-shaped fireworks flung through you. Jimin’s tender eyes fall to them, one by one, and his mouth cracks the tiniest of smiles, as if he, too, held himself back from ruining the moment. The room is saturated with rosiness that feels light, and you wonder how long has it actually been since you’ve put on these rose-colored glasses. 

How strange it is in reality, to love someone without them knowing. 

You’re a slave to things hitting you all of a sudden. You tend to live in a dreamy headspace, walking through life seeking the arts, the poems, the book lines that cut through your heart without any ounce of pity, and when reality infiltrates that fog like the winter’s sun, the rosiness loses its hue. 

Just like right now. 

What are you doing? What is Jimin doing and why is he doing it? It’s not right, it shouldn’t be like this, you haven’t done anything to deserve this. You don’t think smiling at a cashier would make you deserve—

“Is the pain any better?” 

His tender voice percolates into your anxious thoughts like a pyrotechnic with colors inside its throat, the very fireworks inside you, and they meet in the middle of your sternum, connecting, clicking, never to be torn apart—at least not for a while. Their bond erases your fear, making space for a clean frame of mind, and your brain cells focus on your aching lower belly. The pain has lessened due to the heat radiating off Jimin’s body and seeping into yours, you let out a long breath that caresses the shorter pieces of his hair, and your muscles loosen, your senses returning to you. 

You can smell Jimin.

Apple shampoo, the sweet vanilla of his fragrance, laced most delectably with the manly spice of his aftershave. And the savoriness of his natural scent. 

A moment of physical serenity. 

Your fingers twitch behind the nape of his neck, pining to play with his hair. You take a lungful of the whole essence of him, your pining dilating as your instinct begs you to fist the downy material of his cashmere sweater, drag him up and bury your nose in his neck. 

You do none of those things, however. Your fingers keep on twitching, and so you close them into a fist, holding your thumb for comfort, willing the blackness of your thoughts away. 

You nod your head and suddenly, your body does as it pleases. For a reason unknown to you, your free finger taps the center of the back of his neck, and you’re not sure if it was that brief touch that cast such light in his eyes, or whether it was the fact that he’s helping your cramps. 

You wish you’d stop thinking at all. It’s exhausting, fighting and analyzing all the fucking time. You wish you could just live in the moment, experiencing the beauty of your senses quietly without any intrusions of your thoughts, and as Jimin sizes you up with all that light glossing over his irises, it seems as though he knows the ins and outs of your daily struggles. 

You don’t know that he’s been paying attention all this time. A very close one, at that. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, throwing you off balance enough that your eyes widen and the blood in your veins turns cold. The pain in your belly stops at once as all your concentration is fixed on the call-out. “You haven’t touched your favorite boba. You haven’t said a full sentence since I came over and you keep frowning. What’s wrong?” 

His chest lifts and he reaches over to your bedside table, grabbing the drink he spoke of and placing it on your swollen tummy. His teeth rip off the plastic foil over the straw and he plunges it with utmost expertise inside the large cup, setting off the fireworks inside you all over again as if it was New Year’s eve. And maybe it is—maybe Jimin has fast-forwarded the time and given you a chance to make a change in your life, a new year resolution that could make everything better. 

If only you weren’t such a coward—a wolf of bravery in a foolish, timid sheep’s skin. 

But the tears that rush through when Jimin tilts the cup and the straw to your lips while holding it steady, they have the power to clean you off the old and the ostensibly innate structure of your insecurities. And when they roll down your cheeks and Jimin’s mouth parts in abrupt shock molded by compassion, you sense that their power is bigger than you. 

Your lips wrap around the thick straw and suck in the saccharine, creamy delight. It suffuses all of your senses, and once the black, squishy tapioca plops into your mouth, a soothing tendril of joy overwhelms every inch of your being. To such an extent that you begin to bawl. 

And splutter out the contents of your mind. 

“My mind is always running and I’m so tired of it, like I can’t catch up anymore,” you sob, chewing the boba while your tears freely fall. Jimin continues holding the cup and when your hand wraps around his, the other one encloses around your wrist—the gesture propelling you to spill out more. “I’m always analyzing, always thinking if I’m worthy of this and that. If it’s okay, if I should stop, if I should do something or not, if I—” You sigh, not able to find the words to describe what you’re experiencing. Frustration latches onto you, inciting your anger that begins to ooze out of your every pore. “When you were laying down on my lap, all I could think about was—” You stop yourself, slapping your mouth, realizing that you nearly said too much. 

But Jimin knits his brows, and the hand that held your wrist tugs away the limb that halted the flow of your words. “Keep going.” 

Your heart pounds, violently. The moment feels too severe, and yet your mind is oddly… silent. As if the anger that washed over you scrubbed it completely clean—clean enough that you perceive this to be an interruption rather than a saving. Your mouth wants to continue to speak and your heart… it pushes the words up your throat. 

You feel like puking your guts up, although there’s a strange determination prickling the ends of your fingertips. 

You swallow and in the middle of the interlude, Jimin sits up. Sets your boba on the hard surface of your closed laptop nearby. The sudden distance pulls you, as if by a string, to a sitting position as well, and both of you simultaneously criss-cross your legs while your heart threatens to leap out of your esophagus. You’re stomaching the feeling that you’ve done something wrong, which caused him to exit the closeness you were in, and you tense up and nearly tremble with the need to fix it. 

Jimin opens his mouth, about to say something, but you’re quicker. You’re going to give him what he asked you, just so you can have him close again. 

“When you were in my lap, I couldn’t believe it,” you start softly, graced with the attention of his eyes as they flick up to you in surprise. Your nerve endings sizzle, giving you the words to continue, no matter how devastatingly acute this situation is. “I tried to think of all the things I did that made me deserve having you this close, but I came up short every time. I didn’t understand how our closeness happened to begin with and I didn’t think I was worthy of it. Still do. That’s all.” 

You exhale loudly, detecting no heaviness on your chest, but absolute freedom, out of which blades of grass grow, a perfect home for wildflowers. But a cloud extends over it and it begins to rain as you watch Jimin’s natural expression break into a vivid canvas of dolefulness. The eye contact breaks along with it. The faux-blond boy hangs his head low, his long eyelashes flitting, and you think the world is ending right now as you’re taking small, careful breaths, knowing they’re the last ones. 

But Jimin’s forefinger finds your big toe, and he plays with it. Moves it back and forth, fondles it, squeezes it. Makes the last seconds of this life a little more bearable before it collapses over your head. Ponders something unknown, seemingly prolonging this end. And when he’s had enough and he fists all of your toes and looks up at you, it’s not that he stops this finale. 

He snatches you and takes you to the other world.

“I have something to tell you as well,” he says, his voice coated by that sadness and regret his whole energy is permeated with. He blinks rapidly, running his tongue over his bottom lip inside his mouth, gathering courage or perhaps waiting for your full attention because you’re dipping your gaze in and out of the intimacy of the way he’s holding your foot and the nipping graveness of this moment. 

Everything is too much at once.

“I’ve been a fool,” he starts, similarly like you did, biting the bottom lip he moistened as if to punish himself while busying his eyes on your pink toenail. He strokes the lacquer, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve done all of those things and I still do them without telling you the truth, without confessing.” He flicks his eyes up at you from his downward position, elbows propped on his knees, his stature hunched and buffy. Stops the beat of your heart with that brief look as you anticipate his next words. Sighs, the sound loud and heavy, bearing the kind of guilt and affliction that gnaws at the flesh he owns. Your brain turns off and every morsel of your feelings desires to help him, to make him feel better, but the following words that come out his mouth are the last stop to the other world, and everything is born anew. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. Soaked like a puppy in the rain, waiting all alone for your friends to finish flirting with the guys outside of the club in Hongdae. I’ve loved you since that moment because you were just like me. You weren’t in the mood, you didn’t want anyone to talk to you. I’m still surprised you smiled your beautiful smile at me when I waved at you, that you let me talk to you.”

The memory sails before your eyes like a murky cloud. All of your friends standing under the roof, smoking and talking to guys, not leaving any space for you to hide yourself from the rain. Jimin finding you in that crowd, waving at you, perceptibly softening when you waved back and smiled because you felt lonely, overlooked and profoundly depressed and he was the only one who saw you. The memory ends at the scene when Jimin walks towards you, takes off his jacket and holds it over your head while getting soaked himself.

Your cheeks were dry from your tears, but they get stained all over again as new tears begin to pour, your heart tender, beating hard but quietly from his confession. Jimin moves your foot over to his lap, drifting his fingers over it, and the tickling sensation prevents your anxious thoughts from reappearing. You breathe in his words, letting them in, letting the change in, all while you squirm and hushedly giggle from his tickles. 

Strange, strange emotions, towering over you, but they feel right—they feel like heaven, and you think that’s where your archangel has taken you.

He loves you. 

You love him and he loves you back.

He loves you.

“I’m sorry that I confused you. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was… afraid,” he says, boring his eyes into yours, sending out the authenticity, with which he covered his words, and the regret he deeply feels. “I was afraid you were comfortable with us being just friends, but still I couldn’t physically keep my distance. It was a mistake on my part, so again I’m sorry I made you feel this way.” 

Your heart grows and your body is too small to cage it inside, ferocious and wild with all the love it feels for the faux-blond boy. You feel constricted and you rid yourself of the iffy sensation by inching a little closer and enveloping your arms around his shoulders. And this time, you have the freedom to sink your fingers into his chamomile-colored hair. You have the freedom to feel the softness, to hear his quiet, confidential purr of pleasure from your touch, which essentially spurs you on to move a little further upon this trail of freedom. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time, too,” you confess, and it’s the easiest thing your mouth ever emitted. No dark thoughts ruin it, but instead you understand that everything Jimin has done for you was through the strings of love that connect you to him. Your delusions weren’t delusions; they were all true conceptions and they were broiling, begging to be let out. “I fell in love with you because of your actions, because of the way you took care of me, because of the way you treated me. No one has ever treated me like you did. You’re a beautiful person with a kind heart—”

Jimin interrupts you with a cry of your name. He yanks you fully into his lap, wrapping your legs around him to make you comfortable, and he embraces you. Tightly, heartfully. You fit into him like petals to disc florets, and you never want to leave. An ardent awareness of safety swallows you whole, especially when he scrunches up your hair and nuzzles his face in your neck, breathing against you so heavily that your entire world spins. 

And then he pulls you away, and asks you the kind of question that deprives you of everything you ever knew, romantically. 

“Can I kiss you? Please, let me kiss you. Jebal.” 

The smile that stretches over your face aches as you vehemently nod and Jimin doesn’t waste a singular second. 

He smashes his mouth against yours, igniting hundreds, if not thousands, of butterflies with a loving fire that they spread across every inch of you. The kiss is deep, and unlike any kiss depicted in any kind of art that you ever longed for. Your mind is gone as soon as Jimin breaks the kiss for a millisecond and goes for another one, seizing your lips, owning them, doing to them whatever he wants. The past world is gone, heaven is in full bloom, with a legion of lesser angels celebrating the kiss of the ending century. The time is gone, too, as both of you kiss until your lips get numb, and the look you give to each other makes those innocent winged creatures cover their eyes in shyness. 

The kissing doesn’t stop there. 

With every turn of the head, with every peck and with every brush of the tongue, it fulfills everything you ever lacked. You forget every poem you learned. The colors of the paintings you liked pale in comparison. And every book scene you envisioned before you went to bed is filled with emptiness. Jimin becomes the center of your new life that stands above the fictional one you so earnestly wanted, and you tell him of it with every kiss you reciprocate.

With words, too, later when you’ve caught your breath and Jimin is spooning you with his hand on your lower belly, occasionally stretching his neck over your shoulder to take a sip of your delicious boba. And you tell him again in your dreams, where the comprehension that you no longer have to live in your headspace in order to be happy and fulfilled unfolds. You make friends with the angels and tell them as well, watching what they do as they run their fingers through his hair, making mental notes, folding them into your heart. 

You do what you learned in the bathroom the following morning, even through the excruciating pain of your cramps. Jimin kisses your feet for it, orders you to rest as he massages them, having brought you some painkillers. And when they take effect and you can function like a normal human being, you note down your first life full of art with him.

And title the first page—“THE END OF THE WORLD, THE BEGINNING OF MINE”.

© 2025 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[95rkives]

cw car sex

ᝰ.ᐟ jimin is determined to ruin you in the backseat of his car, but the seatbelt buckle might get to you first.

“Jimin, this is the worst place you’ve ever fucked me.”

You barely get the words out before his next thrust has your head knocking right against the stupid car door. Again. For what feels like the hundredth time.

Jimin doesn’t even slow down. If anything, the complaint just makes him grin, all smug and unbothered as he leans down, breath warm against your cheek. “Mm,” he hums, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up higher around his waist. “I don’t know… I think it’s kind of fun.”

Fun.

Your back is at war with the middle seatbelt buckle, your legs are cramping, and your spine has fully accepted its fate as a sacrifice to the gods of uncomfortable car sex. Meanwhile, Jimin—perfectly comfortable Jimin—is having the absolute time of his life, his hips rolling deep, deliberate, like he has all the time in the world.

“Fun for who?” you huff, shoving at his shoulder. “You’re not the one getting assaulted by a cup holder right now.”

Jimin laughs, the sound all breathy and smug as he kisses along your jaw, nipping just to be annoying. “You’re so dramatic,” he murmurs, voice all honeyed amusement. But he must take some pity on you, because he sighs—real exaggerated like, as if he’s the one suffering—and shifts, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. With hardly any effort, he pulls you up, switching positions until you’re in a straddle across his lap, your knees sinking into the leather on either side of him. “There,” he says, smirking. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

He rocks up, deep and slow and just obnoxiously good, and whatever clever retort you had dies instantly.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and instead of some pretty, breathless moan, what comes out of your mouth is a very undignified—

“Oh, fuck you.”

Jimin laughs, looking way too proud of himself. His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks up again, slow and teasing, like he has all the time in the world. “You are, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “And you’re doing such a good job.”

[scenerthv]

WHEN THE WORLD IS QUIET | PJM

──────────────────────

He had a reputation. You had standards. So why does he keep looking at you like you're next?

You've always kept to yourself. Quiet mornings with coffee, late nights with textbooks, and a heart that's always been careful. The last thing you wanted in your second year of university was drama, especially in the form of Park Jimin: the heartthrob, walking heartbreaker, and a well known flirt. A man who acted like he came straight out of a cliché romance story.

He's everything you've always told yourself to avoid. He's gorgeous, overly confident, and notorious for never calling anyone back. But when your professor paired you two together for a semester-long project, it's impossible to not see past the rumours. Behind the dangerous smirks and the teasing remarks, there was something else to him. Something kinder, softer, and sweeter. Something that connected you two more than just being classmates.

You were supposed to keep it professional. You were supposed to ignore him.

You knew better.

But when the world is quiet and it's just you two alone, it's hard to remember why you ever tried resist him in the first place.

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pairing: playboy!parkjimin x fem!reader

genre: university au, angst, smut, fluff

word count: unknown as of right now

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, explicit (maybe) sexual content, mentions of drinking, lots of teasing on Jimin's end lol, toxic relationships, jealous & possessiveness.

notes: haili!! Thank you for giving this story a chance, the first part (or chapter, whatever u wanna call it) will be out this week! I'm not sure how long this series will be yet, I'm hoping for at least 10 part maximum, but that might change in the future! I have the first 3 parts written already.

I'm still trying to figure out my aesthetic on this account, so please don't mind it if it looks ugly lol.

Likes, comments, reblogs, asks, & feedbacks are appreciated. Thank you so much! <3

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[jhugas]

‘Im not done with you…’- Park Jimin

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Genre: contains angst, mainly smut

Pairing: Jimin X 8thmember! Afab! Reader

Summary: your argument was stupid and getting hurtful, so you expected a few things from Jimin, but not this…

Word count: ~1,9k

Warnings/tags: oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration (d in v), cum eating (m eats), unprotected sex, 3 diff position including a standing up one- he carries her-(he hellaaaa strong, he can carry anyone), cum stuffing, creampie, reader cums twice, they cum 2gether, some French kiss, make out ofc, big d! Jimin, Reader has a dick bulge in her stomach, reader gets hella tired at the end lol, and also forbidden love/sex ig? by the agence.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You and Jimin were arguing endlessly and it was getting more and more heated. And the worst is, that you’re fighting over nothing.

You started arguing over something stupid, then started mentioning deeper topics and just using each other’s weaknesses against each other. The main reason you started arguing for got lost in the way, and you bring this up.

‘Why did we even start fighting for? You’re just straight insulting me! Can’t you keep a normal conversation? Is it that hard??’ you yell at him, while the two of you are sat on the same couch against the wall.

‘Listen, I don’t understand anything you’re saying. You get mad at literally everything! We literally agree. I agree with you y/n!!!’ he yells back.

‘Oh so you agree now? Well good! I guess we can stop arguing!’

‘No y/n, I ALWAYS agreed with you, you just don’t understand!’

‘Well then, why are we fighting?!’ You say as you get up, looking down on him and confused on why did you start fighting, slowly calming down.

‘Why did w-‘ you began to say, before Jimin got up too, and cut you by smashing his lip against yours.

You don’t really understand why he kissed you all of a sudden, you’ve never kissed before, but indeed, you can’t say there was never something between you two.

You remember that one time, when you were both sitting down in the pool at night, all alone during summer, and you were just talking together about love and how you wished to find it. And it’s just the way he was staring at your lips when you were talking and the way he was looking at you, that installed an oddly comfortable tension.

It’s true, you felt like your body was moving on its own, trying to feel his lips on you, anywhere, but it didn’t happen.

In fact, your agency didn’t let any idol of the same group date each other, and even if you could just have fun without dating, you never talked about it, so he might not feel the same…

But though you always wanted to kiss him, you didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. Working with someone you might fall in love with is… complicated. But Jimin doesn’t care.

His lips are moving along with yours, still a bit shy but getting more and more bold each second. He has his hands on you, one behind your head, and the other one in between your waist and lower back to hold you close to him, in fact, both of your hips are stuck together.

You pull back to breathe and look at him with a worried look.

‘What’s wrong? Are you alright?’ He asked you when he noticed the way you’re looking at him, he needed to feel his lips on yours again as soon as possible.

‘Are you sure this is okay?’ You whisper with your lips almost touching his.

‘You don’t need to think about anything… just relax and enjoy, you have nothing to do…’ he whispers back, before slowly completing your lips with his again, his bottom lip filling the gap in between yours as he gently sucks on your top lip.

His hand lowers to your ass, leaving you time to stop him if you wanted, but you don’t. He notices and doesn’t lose time to grab your thighs, before lifting you up, making your legs wrap around his tiny waist. Then he leaned his head to the side to get a better taste of you, sliding progressively his tongue in to feel you better.

You can’t help but moan in the kiss. His hands sliding in your panties and the way he’s carrying you is too attractive, he’s making you feel so loved and wanted, and makes you all needy simultaneously.

Because of your position, he gets on his knees on the couch, facing the wall, and makes you sit on the top of it in front of him. He stopped kissing your lips and began to leave kisses on your body instead, from your neck, to your cleavage, to your stomach until he reached your lower stomach.

He looks up at you in admiration with his siren eyes, asking permission to take off your shorts and panties to feel your pussy in his mouth. And as soon as you nodded, you lifted your hips to make it easier for him to take off your shorts and panties in one go, something that he successfully did.

You are now legs open, revealing your bare wet pussy right in front of his shining eyes.

Then he started.

He kissed your thighs, slowly and sensually, then got closer to your lips, before pressing his plump lips against your clit and start giving it a few licks with his tongue.

He also teases your hole, licking the edges just enough to tease you and make you want more.

Curses leave your lips as his tongue works on your clit and his hands grab firmly your thighs to keep them open. You, you are grabbing his hair, bringing him closer to you though it’s not possible, and enjoying his moans through your body vibrations.

His tongue is precise and pleases you at the perfect pace, making your orgasm come faster than usual, and getting wetter each move. And Jimin doesn’t mind, he loves the taste of your juices and would love to drown in it, he always fantasized about how good you’d taste.

He keeps sucking on your clit meanwhile his fingers get to your entrance and eagerly push them in, curling them perfectly and immediately finding your sweet spot. Jimin had so much control over his tongue and fingers it was insane, there is no other like him, he’s the only one that can make you feel like this, and he was ready to prove it to you.

Obviously, you felt your orgasm coming closer and closer as you grab his hair harder, the position being complicated for him but he doesn’t mind, all he wants to hear is you screaming his name.

‘Fu- ugh Jimin! I’m gonna cum!’ you say with the energy you have left, shamelessly showing him how good HE makes you feel.

When he hears this, he decides to go faster to make you cum harder, and it happened.

You cum hard all over his fingers, closing your walls around his fingers as he doesn’t stop until you’re totally done, falling from your high.

Curses leave both of your lips as he pulls out his fingers of you, and leave your clit by itself. Jimin can’t help but taste you on his fingers, feeling your sweet juice on his tongue after playing with it.

Meanwhile, you’re still trying to catch your breath against the wall, still sitting on top of the couch.

‘I’m not done with you…’ Jimin tells you, looking deep into your eyes.

You only manage to answer ‘huh?’ In your state, before he carried you again and started kissing you eyes shut closed, shoving his tongue in your mouth.

You let yourself do and as he told you before ‘just relax and enjoy’. He still has your legs around his waist as he holds you high enough to pull down his pants and Calvin Klein boxers, your bare wet pussy against his lower stomach, and you feel his cock hitting your ass.

‘Be careful…’ you tell him, but he’s not listening, he’s busy aligning the tip of his cock with your cunt.

First, he slides it in between your folds to stimulate your sensitive clit and tease your entrance, before pushing his thick cock inside you.

You throw your head back and arch your back as Jimin carries you safely, and started to make you bounce on it.

He’s grabbing your ass firmly, making you jump up and down his dick as it hits your sensitive sweet spot again. You were so sensitive that even when you tried to not move too much to annoy Jimin, you were still squirming while Jimin, in fact, wasn’t struggling at all.

He was 100% stable and wasn’t ready to let go or stop anytime soon.

Wet clapping sounds, your whimpers, and Jimin’s low groans and moans became louder and louder, still clapping his balls against your ass as his cock pounds into you.

Then suddenly, Jimin decided to switch position, so he pulled out, for one reason; he wanted to see his cock disappear in your cunt.

He heads to the kitchen and lays your back against the kitchen table, as your ass is at the same height as his hips, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you.

You rest a little bit before he slowly pushes his tip in you, observing how his big and thick cock disappeared in your little hole. And once he was all the way in, he could see a bulge in your lower stomach, your lips grabbing his cock as he pulled back. Your sensibility is now more than enjoyable, and you get more pleasure with each thrust.

‘Take off your shirt baby… I wanna see you all naked for me…’ he says, excited at the idea of seeing your titties jump.

‘Do it for me-‘ you answered, too tired to even think straight.

At your words, Jimin doesn’t lose any time and takes off his hands of your hips to take off your shirt, then waiting for you to arch to unclip your bra, finally being able to see your body entirely naked for the first time. You looked more than ethereal, seeing you all open for him and so vulnerable made him feel so trusted.

He can feel your walls clench around him, and also his high coming fast.

‘I’m gonna cu- cum soon.’ Jimin warns you.

‘Cum in me, I wanna cum with you…’ you answer breathlessly.

Jimin is happy at the green light, he’ll be cumming in you and watching his thick semen get out of your cunt too.

He keeps on pounding into you, watching your boobs jump in circles and making you feel every single inch of his thick and big cock he was so proud of. You already felt it when you were secretly grinding on each other years ago, too scared to do more, but feeling it inside you was much different.

‘Fu- I’m cumming!’ He screams, as he pushes his dick deeply into you to cum the further possible. He paints your walls in white and you feel his warm cum resting in you. Then you came next, your juice drowning Jimin’s cock that was still in you, whispering to himself ‘so tight’.

Your body started shaking as Jimin made sure you didn’t hit your head on the table.

Then finally, the two of you calmed down. Not moving as both of your juices mix together in your spot, until he pulled out slowly, making you feel so empty all of a sudden.

He watched his cum get out of your cunt and slide down to your asshole, but Jimin wanted to stuff you more. As you were relaxing laying down, he used his tip to gather his white cum and shove it in your cunt again repeatedly.

‘What just happened?’ You ask Jimin.

‘I said don’t worry love, let’s take a shower now. Had fun?’ He whispers.

‘Yes…’ you whisper back, before Jimin carried you to the toilet then to the shower, helping you feel better and cuddling you a lot.

Let’s say this was an apology for every mean things you told each others.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are extremely nice and helpful. Thank you!

Masterlist

[cybsoo2]

tease me too much

╰┈➤ synopsis — Arousal and embarrassment are the only two things that make Jimin blush.

╰┈➤ pairing — jimin x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 650+

╰┈➤ content warning — mature themes, kissing, thigh riding, cumming too soon, hair pulling

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; this felt like a writing exercise

You share careless kisses. Swollen tongues leave strings of saliva that follow your breath. Rising chests rush to take in air before diving back down. 

Jimin bites your bottom lip, bleeding out under the pressure that’s building in his pants. Sore swelling strains his movements. His inflamed body feeling overloaded by your tender taunts.

You keep teasing him into temptation. Toying with the hem of his shirt and running your knuckles along his taut abdomen. His stomach all tied up in knots that leave him sensitive. 

You love the way you can get him so worked up so easily. Only a few dirty words and wandering touches leave him falling apart in front of you. Watching the way he blushes and begs for more; Why would you ever give in so quickly. You'd much rather savour his suffering.

Overwhelmed, weak hands fist at the sheets and your shirt. Jimin feels his pulse at the pit of his stomach. His muscles twitch under your insistent smile. He stays soft and pliable for you to puppet, but a tension rises inside his thighs. Jimin finds himself growing restless. So, he ruts himself faster against you to rid himself of the tightness. 

You grab fistfuls of hair at the back of his head; giving short tugs when you grind into him. Your groans linger in the air while you force his into the collar of your shirt.

Jimin’s pink lips leave needy kisses on your neck. Burn marks are embedded into your rosy skin. He mumbles lustful ‘I love you’s through trembling pants. A red-hot heat spreads through your sighs. Deep desire drives itself from his heart to his hips. His lips latch themselves onto yours desperately.

He grabs one of your hands and guides it down to the bulge in his pants. It's straining against the tight fabric. The uncomfortable feeling blurs between pain and pleasure. He needs more, and he's begging you through hushed whines of 'please. please I need it'.

But you don't give into his begging so easily. You take to teasing him a bit. Pulling back your hand and holding his hips still; stopping the friction that he so desperately craves.

The consequences of this is a whine stuffed into your mouth and his own selfish hands reaching down to rub himself raw. You're kisses are not enough, he needs more to satisfy himself. You seem to notice his selfishness and it grows on your nerves. He wants to reach the end so badly that he's willing to act like a brat.

A sharp tug to the back of his head makes his arms buckle and collapse into your embrace. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling at the strands that send a tremble down his spine. His head dizzy with pain. A type of pain that he hates to admit he likes. And before he can stop himself, muffled moans are sounded out into the crevice of your collarbone. Eyes rolled back into his head and lips left open in pretty pleasure.

His whispered whimpers drive you insane. A pale red passion keeps you moving to continue. You turn his head up to carry on but small gasps tumble off his tongue.

“Stop…stop,” Shy pleas prompt you to sit still.

“You okay?” You question quietly while tying your hands up in his hair. You wonder if you went too far, teased him a little too much. A nod rubbed into your neck and a mumbled ‘Mm-hmm’ answer your question. 

Jimin gives out tired gasps as he rests against you. His whole body is shaking and he has to give himself a minute to settle down. Tummy tied tight in embarrassment and his eyes avoiding your own. A shameful sin soaks his body.

You pet down his hair from where it sticks up in sweaty strands. As Jimin climbs down from his climax, you decide that'll spare him the humiliation and pretend not to notice the wetness that soaks through the thigh he straddles.

© cybsoo2 2025, all rights reserved

[borathae]

Tenderness

"Jimin has a hard time accepting that people don't want to hurt him. Something about you makes him ease up however and because of it, he asks you to cut his hair. You help him gladly of course."

Pairing: Jimin x f.Reader

Genre: slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: Jimin has trauma, he's scared but she makes him feel at ease, like please give this man a hug, innocent skinship, also they're just friends currently but idkkk there is so much tension between them, god i'm going insane actually

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: i'm actually so sad :( also listen. the hug was inspired by the way Jimin hugs :( i fucking want a Mimi Hug no JOKE </3

You are in the back garden, pruning the roses when someone suddenly steals the sunlight from you. It had once warmed your skin. The air feels chilly in the shadows all of a sudden.

You stop working, lifting your eyes at the person.

Jimin. Dressed in a long arm shirt and flowy pants, he walked through the grass barefoot and with his long hair tied back. The fabric of his shirt is striped in black and white. He is hiding his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“You’re in my sun”, you tease.

“The sun doesn’t belong to you”, he throws backs sassily.

“I’d still prefer it if I had sunlight.”

“Too bad. I’m here now.”

You scoff in amusement, straightening up by rolling your shoulders. Such bickering is normal between you and him and amuses you these days.

“Do you wanna help me?” you offer him your second pair of pruning scissors, which he declines with a shake of his head.

“I have a, uh, favour to ask of you.”

You are working on the rose as you talk to him. He watches your movements with his eyes just slightly zoned out. 

“What’s up?” 

“Okay so, don’t laugh at me, but I talked to Tae and he said that you’re really good at cutting hair.”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody in this family wants to trust me, but I’m so good at cutting hair, like so good.”

He scoffs in amusement, reaching out to play with a rose leaf mindlessly.

“Sure you are.”

“Mh-hm, I am. Why did you ask him?”

“It’s just, I was wondering, uh, if maybe you want to do my hair.”

You stop working, studying him in surprise. You didn’t expect such a request.

“Your hair?” you make sure

Jimin nods his head. 

“Sure, uh, yeah I can. Just...why me?”

“Because you’re good, I already told you. And because Tae can’t cut hair. He thinks that he can, but he is shit at it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m not better than a professional though. Wouldn’t a stylist be better than me?”

“No, uhm.” He shies away, touching his own neck in soothing. “I’m not ready to, uhm. It’s hard for me to have strangers touch me. I, I don’t know them and, and I… uhm, they could hurt me. Uhm, it’s hard, I guess.”

“Oh”, you realise, “gosh Jimin, I’m sorry that you feel this way. I understand your feelings and I’ll gladly cut your hair.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, “see you later then. In my wing. Bye.” 

And with that, he flees, keeping his head low in embarrassment. You know that it wasn’t easy for him to share his feelings right now. He is a lot like Yoongi in that regard. Although Jimin is definitely that way because he was never truly allowed to feel. In more sense than one. Not only was he forced to keep his emotions off, he was also punished for any show of emotion which didn’t benefit his abusers. Sharing his feelings equalled being hurt to him in his past. So of course he fled the second he did it. You are still so proud of him for sharing his feelings. It means that he is healing. 

You finish garden work and take a quick shower. Knowing Jimin, he meant the evening hours when he said “later” so you don’t feel too stressed about going to him. 

After the shower, you have early dinner with Yoongi and Jungkook where you tell them that you will cut Jimin’s hair later and they show their expected surprise. When you tell them his reasons however, they react with empathy. They leave for a hunt after dinner, needing their own vampiric meals. You kiss each of them on their lips and wish them a good hunt, then you make your way upstairs to Jimin’s wing. 

He always keeps his doors locked because he feels safer this way, resulting in you having to ring his doorbell.

All of you have doorbells installed, which makes it a lot easier to visit each other. It was Taehyung’s idea and Yoongi had to be the one to install them. He did it gladly, gloating about how easy it was once it was done.

Jimin opens the door after the first ring. He is in different clothes and judging by the slight pearls of sweat on his forehead, he has been dancing. 

“Is it a good time?” you ask him.

“Yes. Come in.”

You step out of your house shoes once inside, while Jimin locks the door.

“Were you dancing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. How’s the studio?”

“Good. I love the natural light in it.”

“It’s already dark though.”

“For you, yes. Not for me. The moonlight is better than sunlight”, he says and hurries past you, “wait in the living room. I need to shower.”

“Alright, will do.”

Jimin’s living room was once a guest bedroom. The one you stayed in during your first night at the estate to be more exact. Yes, That Night where Taehyung had actually planned on eating you before you, unknowingly, managed to change his mind. 

The room once smelled of oakwood and myrrh, but smells like orange blossoms and clean wood these days. The walls changed out of their outdated grey coat into a cherry red dress. White ceilings and a decorated voute seem to practically glow next to the red and the ivory curtains give even more lightness to the otherwise warm-coloured room. The furniture is antique, but in perfect condition and throughout the room, Jimin placed vases with fresh flowers. He isn’t afraid to show his sensitive side these days. It reflects in how delicate the decorations in his wing feel.

You lie down on his sofa. Its red pillows swaddle you, inviting you to close your eyes for a while. It is so comfortable here. 

You probably would have dozed off for a post-dinner nap if Jimin hadn’t woken you again. His steps are quiet normally, but the floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked to you.

You sit up, “I’m awake.”

“Sure”, Jimin says sarcastically, eyeing the deep dent you left in his throw pillow, “just so you know, that pillow is a hundred years old and the stitching is delicate.”

“Huh? Hm?” You look at the pillow, smoothing it out. “Sorry. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we start? I wanna get it over with”, he says and leaves the room again.

With a grieving heart – a nap sounded so good – you leave the comfortable couch to follow him. 

You find him in his bathroom, sitting by the powder table in only his towel. The silver scar on his back contrasts against his black tattoos. He is tracing the entrance point of the scar on his chest mindlessly, but lifts his eyes when he senses your presence. His hand lowers, the self-disgust disappearing from his eyes. He shifts in embarrassment, clearing his throat.

Knowing him, he wants you to ignore his scar. He can’t stand it when people mention it. It is already awful enough that he has to look at it each time he undresses. 

“Anything in particular you wanna get?” you ask him as you close in on him.

“Just shave it there and give it texture on top”, Jimin says, lifting up his hair to show you his neck.

“So undercut with some length on top?”

“Yeah. It’s hot and I need air.”

“Right? It’s so hot lately. This summer is insane”, you agree, picking up the shaver, “should we go with the setting you have on?” 

“Yes. But make sure the fade is good.”

“I will, don’t worry. Is it okay for me to touch you?” 

Jimin glances at you. Surprise and gratefulness. He can’t keep up eye contact, lowering his eyes at the table as he nods his head. 

With his consent, you touch his hair. You run your fingers through it, eyeing his hands. They ball to fists at the first contact, tightening with such strength that his knuckles pale. He is scared.

“Did you practice choreography?” you ask him in hopes of distracting him.

“No I.” He clears his tightened throat. “I guess I just danced.”

“That’s nice too. I’ll shave it to up there. Is that alright?”

Jimin inspects the point you show him and nods his head. You pick up the shaver and turn it on. Jimin moves his head away when you put it close to him, flinches and moves back again.

“Sorry”, he whispers, glancing at you in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Did you change your mind?” 

“No.”

“Alright. Want a break?”

He shakes his head silently.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need it”, you say and put the shaver against his neck.

Jimin is tense during the first couple of shaves, but relaxes soon when his traumatized mind realizes that you genuinely don’t want him harm. He even opens his fists and begins playing with his bracelets mindlessly. Only around his ears, a certain stiffness returns to him and his eyes ghost over the shaver fearfully. 

So you give him a break, soothing him by tracing his ears softly. 

“Gotta clean you up”, you tell him even though both of you know that this was just an excuse to mask the gesture of comfort you give him. If you didn’t mask it, Jimin would get way too embarrassed however. 

He is tense at first. His eyes switch between your hands, your face and the shaver you put aside. 

You reach the spot right behind his ear where the harder point of his shell blends into the softness of his lobe. You rub it slowly. Jimin’s lids flutter, his head sways back just once before he fixes it again.

Another rub of the same spot and Jimin’s head rolls back again, lids closing halfway as goosebumps cover his skin. Yet another rub and he breathes so deeply that his chest lifts and sinks visibly, eyes closing for just a second before he forces them open again.

He straightens up, glancing at you in embarrassment. You act oblivious for his sake, giving his shoulders an innocent rub.

“There we go. Now you’re clean. I’ll continue.”

“Yeah. Okay”, he whispers, staring at you in the reflection of the mirror. He can’t truly make sense of the emotions in his chest and what they mean. He also can’t stop them and so he stares.

Jimin doesn’t flinch away anymore when the shaver touches him. You can finish the shaving without any more obstacles. He even stays calm when you shave him around his other ear. Only for a split second his neck tensed up, but relaxed within a breath because he felt safe more than he does troubled in your presence. 

You place the shaver on the table and use a fluffy brush to sweep away any stray hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine. He tries to cover them up as best as possible.

“Do you like the fade?” 

“Yes. It’s, uhm, it’s what I wanted”, he speaks quietly, looking at himself with sparkling eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he is gazing, too mesmerised his new look has him. 

“Nice. That’s good to hear. I’ll just do the texturing and then you’re done.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His words are honest, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Of course.” You pick up the scissors, showing them to him. “I’ll use these.”

You give him time to observe the potential danger. He nods his head in consent. You begin. He doesn’t tense because you gave him the opportunity to prepare. 

“Your hair is fun to work with. You’ve got so much of it.”

“Thanks. It’s hot during summer.”

“I can imagine. Should I take some length too?”

“Yes, please.”

You can finish the cut with no obstacles, moving on to the last step instantly. You clean him and then style him with a light mousse. He lets you with gratefulness in his eyes. Truly, he can’t stop looking at you. It is as if something about you has him captured. You don’t notice his eyes on you because you take your job as his hair stylist way too seriously and are blind to anything but his hair.

“There we go. Now you’re done. How do you like it?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes. For but a moment, your breath hitches. He never looked at you like this before. “Uh..”

Jimin clears his throat and shifts his eyes away. The air is charged between you and him, but neither tries to talk about it.

You take a step back. Jimin looks at himself for a while. His expression is stoic and if you didn’t know him better, you would think that he hates the haircut. In the end however, a small smile hushes over his lips and he nods his head.

“I like it.” 

You smile proudly.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He shimmies on the chair awkwardly, touching his new undercut.

“You can, uhm, leave now if you want to.”

“How about we clean up and then show Tae your new style?” you suggest because you know he doesn’t actually want you to leave, but thinks that you already want to.

“Yes. Okay.” He turns away to hide the giddy smile. “Do you think we can get him to watch a movie with us?”

“I think that he’ll be the one to suggest it.”

Jimin laughs. You laugh with him.

“Yeah, that actually sounds like him”, he agrees. 

“I bet he wants to watch one of his boring French movies.”

“They’re not boring, you just have no taste.”

You laugh, “no I do. His movies are like five hours long. That’s way too long.” 

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Oh honey, I do. He knows and teases me for it.” 

You and Jimin share laughter. Your eyes meet. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.

His smile drops. 

You stop laughing, feeling tight in your chest for but a second, “what’s wrong?” 

Jimin stands up and turns to you so he can close the distance.

You instinctively take a step back, but Jimin still pulls you close.

He hugs you. 

“Oh?”

Jimin hugs as if he is overcome with adoration. Jimin hugs as if he needed the other for his survival. Jimin hugs as if he thanks the universe for the other’s presence. He doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is spilling over with his honest adoration.

You didn’t expect it right now, but can’t deny that it melts you. He has one arm around your waist strongly and cradles the back of your head with his other hand, while his cheek rests on your shoulder with his face hidden in your neck. You can even see from the reflection in the mirror that he has his eyes closed. He hugs just like him. With his entire heart and soul. 

You hug him back with just as much tenderness, rubbing his back slowly. Goosebumps follow your touch. He melts into your embrace. 

“What’s that for?” you ask him quietly.

“Haircut.”

You chuckle, “do you like it that much?”

He nods his head and gives you a squeeze.

“Thank you”, he whispers. 

You know that he doesn’t only speak of the haircut. That he thanks you for giving him the space and time he needed to realise that the haircut won’t end in pain for him. You smile fondly, squeezing him back.

“Of course. You can always come to me for help.”

“I will.” He holds you so close and breathes your name. Nothing else follows. Just your name. Said with just as much heart and soul as his hug carries.

[jiminswh0re]

his body is NOT a joke.. like holy fuck?????

[perfectlyoongi]

WHEN THEY LOVE YOU THE MOST

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jin, jimin, taehyung, jungkook x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... headcanons. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... fluff. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... ~330 each / 1.3k total.

↬┊JIN

after long days of fighting and several hours of communication, at the end of forced smiles and impromptu conversations, between your home and the world, Jin loved you the most when you were tired.

it was when the world was most challenging that Jin found little details about you to love: the way your eyes almost close when you laugh, the way you always stretch your back before taking a deep breath, the way you always manage to find gentle words amidst the chaos in this world. at all times, you were beautiful.

but it was when you arrived home defeated that Jin loved you the most.

he could see on your face your silent plea for affection; he could see in your dragging feet your silent request for a massage; Jin could see in you that it was at that moment that you needed the most love. and he would give it to you. without ever thinking twice, always so helpful and ready, Jin loved you. simply that.

on the most tiring days, when it seemed like the world was taking over you, Jin would take you in his arms and show you that with him you would always have a safe haven. close your eyes. rests. relax. let Jin’s gentle touch take you to lands of tranquility. let Jin’s sweet voice guide you along the most serene paths. let Jin love you.

it didn't matter the day or Jin’s state: he could be tired, totally defeated after a long day of working, he could have just arrived from a long trip, there was no excuse for Jin not to love you. he made you a priority every day. your well-being was equivalent to Jin’s well-being.

so every day, when he knew you weren’t well and needed a quiet moment in the comfort of the one you loved, Jin would love you until you felt like yourself once again.

↬┊JIMIN

among the most graceful blues and the most comforting oranges, amidst all the hopeful yellows and beyond the most addictive purples, Jimin loved you the most when the entire world glowed with the most intense colors and nature played the most ethereal symphony in all the cosmos.

it was when the world shined brightest that Jimin loved you the most.

perhaps because Jimin retains in his heart all the fragments of celestial particles from the various ancient constellations that contained stories of endless lovers; perhaps the entire cosmos had sprinkled Jimin's soul with the immortal love of the oldest and most faithful gods; perhaps because you were framed by the magic sprinkled by the stars that painted you in fascinating golden and tender glowing tones; or perhaps because Jimin simply loved you and all this emotion was only heightened when the days were more colorful and life was more beautiful.

but what if you were the one who gave beauty to life? would that be possible?

in fact, Jimin couldn't think about his last grey day. when was the last time the turbulent clouds of the world's negativity hung over Jimin? when was the last time Jimin felt the need to grab all the crayons and color his life? he had no answer to such questions; for, it was since you entered Jimin's life that he saw his heart and soul being constantly painted in tones of affection and understanding.

yes. you were the one who gave beauty to life. it was you who painted Jimin's life and it was in the colors of your love and the contours of your passion that Jimin found all the happiness in his life. yes. Jimin loved you the most when life was more beautiful, because it was when he thought about the beauty of the world that he realized that all charm only existed because of you.

you, the cause of all the harmony in Jimin's life. you, the painter of Jimin's soul. you, the one Jimin loved the most.

↬┊TAEHYUNG

when the world seemed too big and all the storms were concentrated in one point, and all the darkness in the universe expanded beyond Taehyung's heart, and all the negativity in the world weighed heavily on his shoulders, Taehyung loved you the most when all the horror of a future and the fear of a past haunted his essence.

like a thick cloud hovering over him, Taehyung felt constantly defeated, as if life itself had given up on him and offered him only remnants of fragments of hope and dreams that didn't even seem real, not when felt and lived by Taehyung. and it was in those moments that Taehyung loved you the most.

fearing that his darkness would expand like a thick fog on winter days, Taehyung decided to love you, wanting to use the remaining fragments in every word exchanged, in every delicate touch; as if opening a window to let all the evil fly away, Taehyung loved you when he was most fearful about you, about his life.

in so much chaos, there was only one certainty. in so much chaos, there was only you.

and it was you that Taehyung had decided to love. and you were the one who brought the glue to put together all the leftover fragments into new hopes and dreams.

when Taehyung was scared, he knew he could love you, because it was in the waves of your love, in the clouds of your affection that he found his safe place, that haven of shelter that was always, and forever, there waiting for Taehyung. simply you. what evil could touch Taehyung when he was protected by the kindness of your heart? what darkness could consume Taehyung if he was enveloped in the light of your essence? what bad luck could strike Taehyung when he was with you, when he was loved by you.

and he just reciprocated. when the world got scarier, Taehyung returned all the love you gave him, always offering more than he could.

↬┊JUNGKOOK

among the smiles of thousands and the dreams of hundreds, amid so many promises and stories, in the refuge of various memories and details, Jungkook loved you the most when he believed.

it was when hope began to dawn on Jungkook that he could love you more. when Jungkook was consumed by that feeling so pure, so intense, only one goal moved Jungkook’s entire body: taking you in his arms, leaving the whole world silent for a few moments, Jungkook loved you.

it was the magic of possibilities, the complex spells of stories that could happen, the delicate dust of memories that could be fabricated — it was the idea of a future that made Jungkook love you more.

Jungkook knew from a very early time that it was you: the way your hearts beat in sync at the end of a date, the way your hands fit together perfectly, the way he only felt like himself by your side — you brought out the best in Jungkook, qualities and flaws that he learned to love because, quite simply, you loved them.

and Jungkook was sure it would always be you. that person who would wake up next to him when he was old and the music was too loud; that person who would hold his hand when the sun said goodbye to the day and tranquility stretched across the horizon.

in every way, you were always the one by Jungkook’s side in every future he could think of. and it was imagining these futures, creating plans for an eternal life by your side that he loved you most.

when Jungkook’s eyes shone most intensely, when his lips uttered the sweetest words, when his hands caressed you with grace — it was in the privacy of your home that Jungkook loved you the most, because it was there that he believed in a true love, in an eternal love that would go far beyond that physical life.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[vanillakook]

⠀ ୨୧ masterlist ୨୧

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

key:

drabble ✮

request 𖦹

one shot ✩

series ⛧

links 𐙚

everything includes smut.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

bts

the boy is mine - j.j.k ✩

munch - j.j.k ✮

the roommate - j.j.k ✮

art: objective or subjective? - j.j.k ✮

dopamine - j.j.k ⛧

genshin

coming soon

jujustu kaisen

coming soon

haikyuu

coming soon

attack on titan

coming soon

[sighingsiren-tales]

Game Night is Over

It started with a dare. It ended with Jimin between your thighs. When a harmless game night turns into a slow-burning seduction, you find yourself toeing the line between curiosity and complete surrender. What began with a single kiss unravels into a night of whispered commands, stolen breaths, and the kind of pleasure that rewires your very soul. He’s not just Chimchim anymore. He’s Jimin—dangerous, delicious, and dead set on making sure you never forget the way he says your name.

~~~

It all started as a dare—a stupid, sexy dare. Mei squealed in delight when the bottle landed on you, and you could practically hear the gears turning in her head—wicked and diabolical as always.

“Bunny, I dare you to kiss Jimin.”

The nickname, paired with that dare, sent a jolt of electricity—no, terror—through your body. You weren’t sure you could go through with it, not in front of everyone. But you missed something crucial. You missed the way Jimin’s eyes darkened when Mei said his name. You missed the way his tongue snuck out to wet his bottom lip. Slowly. Deliberately. Like he’d been waiting for this.

“Scared?” he asked, lounging beside Taehyung, casual as sin.

You chewed on your lip for a moment, watching him sip his whiskey like it was water. Even that—God, even that—was sexy. It lit something in you you couldn't put into words. Grabbing a shot off the table, you downed it in one go, grimacing at the burn, before standing up and walking toward him. Jimin stood at his own pace, unbothered. Confident. Deadly.

He rolled his eyes, the kind of roll only he could make look alluring, as the girls squealed and the guys egged him on. You felt shy, heat rushing to your face, but then—then—he looked at you. And just like that, the rest of the room melted away.

“Lemme help,” he murmured.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in. There was barely enough space to breathe. You could smell his cologne—something smoky, expensive, undeniably him. His fingers drummed against your waist as your gaze flicked down to his lips.

God must’ve handcrafted them—pouty, plush, unfairly perfect. You wanted—needed—to know if they felt as soft as they looked. In a haze, you let your fingertips trace his mouth. He watched you with hooded eyes, dark and hungry. And when he dipped his head slightly to take your finger into his mouth, everything inside you short-circuited.

That tongue—slow, warm, and sinful—licked down your finger like it knew your secrets. He raised an eyebrow, silently daring you to do something about it.

You did.

Fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck, you rose up on your toes. His eyes flickered, just for a moment, before your lips finally—finally—met his.

The first kiss was tentative, testing the waters. The second? Possessive. Decisive.

Jimin's hands gripped your hips, holding you against him like he’d earned you. His mouth moved with a purpose, like he had something to prove. You whimpered, clutching his hair, your dress riding up with every shift of his fingers.

You teased his lips with your tongue until he gave in, groaning low and filthy as he opened for you. That sound—it rewired your entire brain. You chased it like a drug, doing everything you could to make him moan again.

Somewhere in the background, Taehyung muttered, “Yeah… I think game night’s over.”

Jimin didn’t stop. Just pulled back enough to growl, “It is. Get out. All of you. We’ll finish this tomorrow.”

“Is he serious?” Jungkook whined.

But you weren’t listening. You couldn’t. All you could hear was his voice—rough, low, the polar opposite of the bubbly Chimchim who greeted you earlier.

This was Park Jimin. And he wanted you.

You took your chance, pressing your lips to his neck and licking slowly, tasting salt and heat and skin that felt like silk.

“Oh, see what she’s doing?” Jimin muttered to the group. “This is gonna get her fucked. Y’all have a minute to leave.”

Your thighs clenched. Your panties didn’t stand a chance.

You pulled away from his neck just long enough to glance apologetically at Mei, who was already packing up her Switch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” you offered.

But Jimin gently took your chin between his fingers and turned you back to face him.

“Uh uh. Look at me.” His voice was velvet and command all at once. “They’re leaving. Don’t worry about them. Worry about me—and how you’re gonna convince me to let you leave my bed for the next two days.”

If you weren’t already soaked, you sure as hell were now. And when Taehyung whispered, “Wait, two days? I thought we were finishing game night tomorrow…” Yuqi shot back, “Okay, then go correct him.” Taehyung just pouted. “No thanks.”

One by one, your friends left—quickly, wisely—until the house was silent. Jimin turned the lock on the front door with a decisive click.

“Come upstairs with me.”

He held out a hand, and you took it. Next thing you knew, he was lifting you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist.

Your mouth traced a trail along his jaw and neck as he carried you up the stairs. Your breath grew heavier with every step. You raked your nails across his back, kissed the shell of his ear, and when he finally reached his room, he kicked the door shut and laid you out on the bed like a gift.

You started to unwrap yourself, legs loosening around him, but Jimin caught your ankle.

“Don’t.” His voice dipped lower. “Keep them around me.”

His mouth found your neck next, sucking, tasting, claiming.

The red t-shirt dress was pushed up over your hips as he left open-mouthed kisses down your body. You writhed, hands twisting in his hair, and he hummed in approval.

His fingers glided down your thighs, unlocking your legs, spreading them wide.

He slipped off your sneakers and socks, kissing your ankle as he admired your golden anklet.

“I like this,” he murmured.

Before you could respond, he was biting softly up your legs, lips hot against the inside of your thighs.

You whined—desperate, aching—and he didn’t even have to touch you there to unravel you.

You tugged off his shirt, hungry for skin. Jimin shirtless, between your legs, with that wicked glint in his eye… it should’ve been illegal.

He sat back, beckoning you forward, fingertips grazing your neck before his hand threaded through your hair.

“Will you take this down for me?” he asked, nodding to your bun.

It was undone in seconds.

“You listen so well,” he praised.

You shrugged, stripping off your dress with a smirk. “When I want to.”

His brows raised. “Yeah?”

You let one strap of your bralette fall. Bit your lip. Nodded.

Jimin crawled over you, pressing you back down beneath him.

“So what makes you wanna listen to me?” he whispered.

You thought about it—how he looked at you, how he touched you like you were fragile and dangerous all at once.

And just as he pulled your panties down, the answer slipped from your lips:

“Because I know what you can do to me.”

He met your eyes from between your thighs, his voice dark and sure:

“No you don’t.”

Then his mouth was on you.

His lips sucked your clit gently, fingers sliding through the mess you’d made just for him. Then lower, tasting you like it was the first sip of heaven.

Your back arched. Your body trembled.

Jimin devoured you.

And when you made the mistake of looking down—seeing him between your legs, eyes closed, mouth working—you felt drunk off it. High.

He pulled back, breathing heavy. “As much as I want you to cum like this,” he murmured, licking his lips, “I don’t have great self-control when I’m tipsy.”

You thought he meant he’d stop. That he’d slow down. But then came the instruction:

“Turn around.”

[shadowkoo]

Touch Of Cherries - Teaser

→ Summary: With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, your thoughtful and devoted boyfriend is determined to make it unforgettable. But when you suggest something completely unexpected like a threesome - with his best friend, no less - he’s caught entirely off guard. Shock quickly turns into curiosity, and as the day draws closer he realizes there’s a whole new side of you he can’t wait to discover.

↠ jimin x f.reader x jungkook | 681 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, romance, pwp, threesome

→ Full Fic Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, explicit sex, threesome, hand job, blow job, extreme teasing, dirty talk, edging, humiliation, degradation, punishment, choking, spanking, orgasm denial, food play (candied cherries, chocolate-covered strawberries, whipped cream, ice cream), butt plugs vibrators, cock rings, vibrating nipple clamps, flogger, feather tassel, leather paddle, blindfolds, tape, silk ties, muzzle, spit play, cum play, bdsm themes, dom/sub switch, mainly dom!reader, bratty!jungkook, submissive!jimin, & more!

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @keopihaus

@lapydiaries @bangtanwritershq

→ Author Note: a big thanks to booki @kwanisms for creating this stunning banner for me! y'all are not ready for this fic i swear, it's unrealllllll!!! as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated ♡

Jimin mewls into your ear as you stroke him, his breathing turning ragged, his hips subtly bucking into your touch. He’s close—so close—but you won’t let him have it. Not yet.

Your grip tightens around his shaft, thumb circling the sensitive head just enough to make him tremble. A surprised gasp escapes his lips, but before he can beg for more, you pull away entirely.

His frustrated whimper only fuels your desire.

You do it again, bringing him to the very edge and making his whole body tense with anticipation, only to snatch it away at the last second.

The night is just getting started, and Jimin is already at your mercy. Exactly where you want him.

Shifting your attention to Jungkook, who has been waiting far too patiently on the bed, you slide your hand down to his zipper, pulling it down with deliberate slowness. His jeans slide to his knees, exposing thick, tense thighs that flex beneath your fingertips as you trail them up toward the outline of his growing arousal, straining behind the fabric of his briefs.

Your fingers dip just beneath the waistband, teasing just enough to send a ripple of goosebumps across his skin before you tug the fabric down, freeing him completely.

“Mmm, you look more than ready for me,” you murmur, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Tell me, do you want my hands on you?”

Jungkook nods frantically, desperation written all over his face.

A devilish smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, lips hovering just inches from his aching length. You blow a soft stream of air against it, watching with satisfaction as his abs flex in response.

“What about my mouth?” you purr, voice dripping with mischief. “Would you like that?”

His chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths. “Fuck, yes. I want it all,” he groans, already on edge.

You let a single finger trail along the prominent vein running up his shaft, barely touching him, yet it’s enough to make him shiver. You can feel how hard he’s fighting to stay still, to not thrust into your teasing touch.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his tattooed hands gripping the sheets.

You ignore his frustration, turning instead to Jimin, who is watching with wide, hungry eyes.

“Tell me what to do to him,” you command smoothly.

Jimin blinks, caught off guard. “You…want me to tell you?”

“Yes, baby,” you coo, tilting your head, daring him to defy you. “Or do you have a problem with my demand?”

“N-no, ma’am,” he stammers, quickly shaking his head. Then, after a brief hesitation, his voice turns more confident. “No hands,” he instructs, watching you carefully. “Do whatever you want, just don’t use your hands.”

A wicked grin spreads across your lips. You love a challenge.

Obliging, you lower yourself between Jungkook’s thighs, letting your tongue flick out to deliver the lightest kitten lick along his length. It’s so brief, so teasing, yet powerful enough to make his whole body tense. You repeat the motion, each barely-there touch making him groan in frustration, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

And you? You’re just getting started. But, if you’re being honest, you could use a little attention yourself.

"Hmm. I don’t think this is working for me," you muse, pushing yourself to your feet with a sigh of faux disappointment. Your gaze sharpens as you look down at Jungkook. "Move up against the headboard."

He obeys without question, shuffling back until his toned back meets the plush pillows, kicking off the last of the fabric clinging to his ankles. His darkened, lust-filled eyes track your every movement.

You crawl forward on your hands and knees, slipping between his legs until your body is back in its previous position, your breath warm against his heated skin.

"Jimin?" you purr, flicking your tongue out to tease the thick head of Jungkook’s length, reveling in the way his thighs tense beneath you. "Be a doll and fuck me with those gorgeous fingers of yours while I take my time enjoying your friend a little longer."

→Taglist: want to be notified when i post the full fic? join my taglist here!

©shadowkoo 2025. All rights reserved.

[jjungkookislife]

Kinktober Day Five: Jimin

pairing: neighbor!jimin x f. reader

genre: neighbor au, s2l, smut 18+

summary: Every Friday night, you give your neighbor a show.

wc: 930

warnings: alcohol use/mention, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, use of a vibrator (jimin can control it also), mention of edging, praise and degradation

kinktober day five - ✊ fisting 🪟 mutual masturbation 👋🏼 impact play

date: October 29, 2024

It’s another Friday night. Work has been hell and you treat yourself with a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine. Your hair is still drying as you do your makeup in your mirror. 

You’ve splurged on a new lingerie set. Something pink and lacy. You sit at your usual spot by the window, waiting for your neighbor to show. 

A smile lights up your face when the bedroom light comes on at 8 on the dot. You sip your wine as the curtain moves to the side and Jimin sits on his bed shirtless. His hair is wet from a shower and his skin glows under his bedroom light. 

You’d only found out his name after last Friday when he’d written on a dry-erase board, so you can moan it, he’d written beneath it. 

Perhaps you should just head next door so he could fuck your brains out but something about him watching you from his bedroom window made it more thrilling. 

It had been an accident the first time you’d done this. Jimin had left his bedroom window wide open, his soft moans carrying to your bedroom. 

You made eye contact as he came on his hand, and you shut your eyes as he chuckled. The next day, a gift card to the local coffee shop was in your mailbox with a post-it note that said sorry. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, your tiny robe undone. You set your glass of wine on the nightstand as you spread your legs for him. 

Jimin watches with hooded eyes as you rise from the bed. He can hear the soft music you play as you sway your hips seductively to the beat. 

Jimin spreads his legs wider as he watches you. You face away from him as you drop the robe. You smile at him from over your shoulder before bending forward. 

You swear you hear him curse. 

Heat builds in Jimin’s abdomen as he watches you dance for him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get the urge to go over during your sessions, but the game's thrill made it too fun to give up. Though he’d jump at the chance to feel you wrapped around his cock. 

He palms himself over his sweats. His lip is tucked between his teeth as you sit on the bed and spread your legs. You push the lace aside and show him your wet cunt. It makes his cock throb. 

Excited by his response, you swirl your finger around your clit. Jimin curses, his attention on you as you undo the bra, tossing it somewhere in your bedroom. You spread your legs further, undoing the bows on the side that hold the panties together.

Jimin groans, if only he could touch you, fuck you. He’d have you screaming for the whole neighborhood to hear.

You lay back on your bed, your hand brushes something beside you, and you pause to write something on the dry-erase board.

I wish it were you.

You hold up the sign to the window and Jimin smirks. He takes his board and writes something before showing it to you.

It’s his phone number.

You quickly dial and he answers on the first ring.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond breathlessly as you sit on your knees.

“Don’t get shy on me now, babe. We’re just getting started,” Jimin grins as he puts the phone on speaker and sets it beside him. “Why don’t you show me that purple toy of yours? I’m sure we can have some fun with that.”

“You know, you can control it,” you giggle as you set up the toy to give him access. You fall back on the bed with the toy between your thighs. Jimin listens to your every moan and groan, his cock hard as he takes his pants off. 

“Oh, this is so much better. How about we make you cum?”

“Please!”

“Hmmm, you seem a little too eager, baby. Better turn this down,” Jimin chuckles as the toy slows down. 

“You asshole!” you huff as you palm your breast.

“You don’t know the half of it, love. Now spread your legs for me, and maybe I’ll let you cum,” Jimin smirks as he raises the vibrations on the toy. He fucks his fist with his other hand, biting back a moan as he watches your legs tremble. Jimin enjoyed watching you, and he loved when you watched him from your window.

“Fuck,” he curses softly as you buck your hips. Your breaths have grown heavier, and whinier as the soft vibrations of your toy come through the speaker of his phone.

“That’s it, baby. Keep touching yourself for me. Show me how wet I make you. Bet you wish it was my fat cock splitting you open, filling you to the brim until I cum.”

“Jimin!” You cry out, near tears as his words go straight to your core. You’re right on the edge, your body tingling with pleasure as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Good girl, keep rubbing your clit. Cum for me like the little needy slut you are,” Jimin smirks as you curse, panting heavily.

His name escapes you, as you rub your clit, doing as Jimin says in front of your window. You hope he’ll let you cum soon, though the devilish grin on his face states otherwise. He might edge you for a little longer, but he’s reaching his peak soon, and he’d love to make you cum with him.

Perhaps tomorrow night, you could come over to his place.

masterlist

[95rkives]

AFTER HOURS⼂PJM

summary: one unforgettable night, one unforgettable name, and a mind-shattering orgasm.

pairings: jimin x fem!reader

genre/warnings: smut, softdom!jm, strangers hooking up, intoxicated characters, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough-ish sex, public sex (club bathroom), slight dirty talk

wc: 1k

a/n: here’s some filth for the soul! spideykook is coming right after this one hopefully before the end of the week! (reals this time :p)

The bass thrums through your body, deep and heavy, rattling your bones as you move. Everything is a blur—flashing lights, pulsing heat, bodies pressed together in a sea of sweat and sin. You don’t know how long you’ve been dancing, don’t remember when you locked eyes with him, but now his hands are on your waist, his breath hot against your ear, and none of it matters.

Your body hums with alcohol and want, and so does his. He’s pressed against your back, fingers digging into your hips as the music swallows you both whole. Every time you move, you can feel him—hard, burning against you, the friction sending electric shivers through your spine.

You don’t know his name. You don’t need to.

You arch into him, your body reacting on instinct, and before you can think, he’s grabbing your wrist, pulling you through the throng of people. His grip is firm, urgent. You don’t question it.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is dimly lit, quieter but still alive with muffled music and the occasional moan from someone getting laid somewhere in a secluded corner. It’s filthy. It’s reckless. It’s perfect.

He stumbles as he shoves the door open, dragging you inside with him. His mouth is on yours before the door even shuts, hot and desperate, all tongue and teeth. You moan into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tastes like whiskey and sin, and you want more.

His hands are everywhere—gripping your ass, sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts. He groans into your mouth when you tug at his belt, your fingers clumsy from the alcohol. “So fucking impatient,” he breathes against your lips, but he’s no better—his hands shake as he tugs at your dress, hiking it up roughly until his fingers find the heat between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, already so wet for me,” he groans, pushing your panties aside.

Your head tilts back against the door with a thud, a breathless moan slipping past your lips as his fingers slide through your slick folds. It’s messy, rushed—he doesn’t waste time teasing. He presses one finger in, then two, curling them just right, and your legs almost give out.

“Need you,” you gasp, your own hands working at his jeans, shoving them just low enough to free him. Your breath catches at the feeling of his cock, hot and heavy against your palm.

He lets out a strangled groan, his forehead pressing against yours as his hips twitch forward. “Turn around,” he orders, voice low, wrecked.

You obey without hesitation, your hands bracing against the door as he spins you in place. His body is flush against your back in seconds, his lips finding the shell of your ear. “Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a promise and a threat all at once.

One hand slides down your thigh, gripping just behind your knee as he lifts your leg, hitching it up against the door. You feel the head of his cock slide against your entrance, teasing, and you push back against him with a frustrated whine, and it’s all it takes for him to thrust in, hard and deep, your moan echoes off the walls.

“Shit—” you gasp, your temple dropping against the cool surface of the door as he buries himself inside you. He’s thick, stretching you open in the best way, and it’s almost too much. Almost.

He doesn’t wait. His free hand grips your waist, holding you steady as he pulls out just enough before slamming back in. His pace is rough, frantic, like he can’t get deep enough, fast enough. Each thrust pushes you harder against the door, your body rocking with the force of him.

The bathroom is filled with the sounds of skin on skin, the wet, filthy noises of him fucking into you, the occasional groan muffled against your neck. You barely notice the knocking on the door, someone impatiently trying to get in. Jimin just laughs, breathless. “They’re gonna have to fucking wait.”

Your nails scrape against the door as his thrusts get sharper, rougher. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, and you cry out, legs trembling.

“Close?” he pants, his lips brushing against your ear.

You can only nod, words lost in the haze of pleasure.

“Good,” he groans. “Milk my cock dry,”

That’s all it takes. The coil in your stomach snaps, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm tears through you. You convulse around him, searching through your memory for a name to moan.

“Fuck,” you gasp, still shuddering as he keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own release. “What—what’s your name?”

He laughs against your shoulder, breathless, almost delirious. “Took me fucking you against a door for you to care?”

You don’t get the chance to reply because he slams into you one last time, his body tensing as he groans, spilling inside you. He grips you tight enough to bruise as he rides out his high, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

For a moment, all you can hear is your own heavy breathing, the distant pulse of the music outside, the occasional muffled knock from whoever is still waiting for the bathroom.

Then he pulls out with a low groan, his breath still coming heavy as he adjusts himself, quickly zipping up his jeans. He steps back, just enough to give you space, but his eyes never leave you.

“Do you have a name, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, like he’s not entirely sure he cares but wants to hear it anyway.

You can barely form a sentence, still shaken from everything. “You... didn’t tell me yours.”

His smile widens. “I didn’t, did I?” He steps closer, his body just a few inches from yours, his breath brushing against your lips. “Jimin,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Now you know.”

You swallow, heart pounding, legs still shaky. “Well, Jimin,” you say, meeting his gaze, “I’m not sure if I’ll ever forget you.”

Jimin chuckles, leaning in like he’s about to kiss you, but pulls back when you try to meet him halfway. “Let’s leave that up to fate.” he says with a wink, before slipping away like a ghost, leaving you standing there, breathless, with a name you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

[scenerthv]

WHEN THE WORLD IS QUIET | PJM

PART ONE

playboy!Jimin x fem!reader

genre: university au, angst, smut, fluff

SYNOPSIS ! (what the story is about is in that link!)

word count: 3.2k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

There are a lot of things you’ve gotten good at avoiding since you started university.

Noise was one thing. You don’t go out of your way to attend parties, you don’t linger in chaotic study lounges, and you definitely don’t sit in the center of lecture halls where everyone’s packed together like concertgoers getting ready to scream their lungs out.

You’ve learned how to keep your head down, how to move without drawing attention, and how to find the small silent places in a world that never stops spinning.

That’s why your mornings always look the same.

8:00 a.m. You go to your favorite cafe and get yourself a vanilla latte.

8:15 a.m. Walk across campus, headphones in, avoiding eye contact.

8:35 a.m. Slide into your usual seat in the lecture room. Second row, left side, one seat from the edge. Safe and peaceful.

8:50 a.m. Lecture begins.

Simple. Predictable. Yours.

Until today.

You’re only five steps into the lecture hall when you spot it.

Someone’s sitting in your seat.

Well in your row. The window of empty space you’ve claimed quietly, week after week, is no longer empty. There’s a backpack slouched carelessly on the floor, legs sprawled out across the carpet, and a shoulder dipped over the backrest like the chair’s doing him a favor by existing.

You nearly stop walking.

Because even from behind, the silhouette is unmistakable.

Park Jimin.

And you? You’re officially screwed.

You know the name. Everyone does. Jimin is the kind of boy whose reputation enters a room before he does. He’s beautiful. The kind of beauty that feels like a dare. The kind of attention you don’t want, but still catch yourself glancing at.

Rumor says he’s slept with at least three different people from this class alone. Possibly more. And he hasn’t so much as glanced in your direction all semester.

Until now.

You consider leaving. You could take a different seat, even if it means sitting in the back with the loud breathers and laptop-typers. You could walk right out, fake a stomach ache, and skip class entirely. You could do literally anything other than walk down that aisle.

But your hands are already wrapped around your vanilla latte. Your bag is digging into your shoulder. And your professor doesn’t tolerate tardiness.

So, you walk.

Five steps. Then ten.

The closer you get, the more you feel his presence. His hair is pushed back in waves that look too good to be accidental. He’s dressed in a black crewneck, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a thin silver chain resting against his collarbone.

He turns when you pause beside him, a lazy smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Didn’t think anyone else sat in this row,” he says. Voice low. And it sounded like the start of something you didn’t want.

You glance at the empty seat beside him. Then at him. Then back again.

“They don’t,” you reply softly. “But I do.”

His smirk deepens.

“Then by all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “Join me.”

You sit without another word.

You feel him watching you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

Jimin doesn’t speak again. Not right away at least.

But he doesn’t need to. He leans back in his chair like he’s at home, legs spread wide, thumb dragging idly over his phone screen. Every so often, you catch the faintest shift in his posture, a tilt of his head, a glance in your direction, a finger twitching, like he’s watching you without looking too obvious about it.

He is not subtle. And you are not impressed.

You try to focus on your screen. Lecture slides are beginning to fill with bullet points, market trends, economic theory, something about supply chain analysis. You type methodically, just fast enough to stay ahead of your professor’s rhythm.

Jimin doesn’t type at all.

In fact, you’re not sure he’s opened a single document.

You hear him yawn softly next to you and wonder for a moment, what it must be like to glide through university with that kind of ease. Not careless, but untouchable. One where things fall into place just because of who you are.

You sometimes wished you had it that easy.

“Hey,” he murmurs suddenly.

You glance over, reluctantly.

He’s still facing forward, voice pitched low so only you can hear. “You type really fast.”

You blink. “That’s what you interrupted me for?”

He shrugs, smile barely there. “It’s kind of hot.”

Your lips press into a tight line. “Don’t talk to me.”

He grins wider. “You keep saying that, but I’m starting to think you don’t mean it.”

You turn to him now, fully, letting your expression speak louder than words. “I do.”

He lifts his hands in surrender, amused. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

He’s not.

Ten minutes later, he offers you a piece of gum. You ignore him.

Five minutes after that, he drops his pen. Then takes yours.

When you try to snatch it back, his fingers brush yours. Warm. Deliberate.

You jerk your hand away like he’s fire.

“Touchy,” he whispers.

“Annoying,” you whisper back.

His smile is all teeth and trouble.

And you hate the way your stomach twists.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You barely survive the rest of the lecture. You managed to keep your notes clean, your face neutral, and your limbs tucked safely into your side of the desk. But it’s harder than it should be.

Jimin doesn’t do anything, not really. He doesn’t flirt in an obvious way or say anything overtly inappropriate. But he’s there, radiating heat, confidence, and attention like it’s second nature. Like he was born to be noticed.

And you?

You are trying desperately not to fall into his bubble.

You pack up quickly after class ends. Laptop closed. Notes stacked. Coffee cup tossed in the recycling bin. You don’t say goodbye. Don’t look back. Just move.

But you don’t even make it to the hallway before you hear it.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Your shoulders tense before you turn.

He’s walking toward you, slow and lazy like there’s no rush. Backpack slung over one arm. That same teasing smile dancing on his lips.

You fold your arms. “Do you ever stop?”

His eyes sparkle. “Nope.”

You sigh.

“I’m Jimin,” he says then, holding out a hand like you haven’t known his name since your first semester.

“I know.”

“You gonna tell me yours?”

You hesitate.

Every instinct in you says no. That you shouldn’t give him anything. You’ve heard the stories, the rumors. Park Jimin is a lesson you didn’t want to learn firsthand.

But he’s watching you like he already knows the ending. And something rebellious stirs in your chest.

“Y/n” you mutter.

His grin grows. “Pretty.”

“You should go.”

“Only if you come with me.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“There’s a cafe across campus. Good iced coffee. Better bagels.” He shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“And you think I’m hungry too?”

“No,” he says, head tilting. “But I think you’re interested in me.”

You narrow your eyes. Just how high is his ego?

“I’m not,” you say flatly.

He laughs under his breath, and it’s disgustingly charming. “Then I’ll see you next class, partner.”

You freeze.

“…Partner?”

He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and turns the screen to you.

Group 4: PARK JIMIN, L/N Y/N

The class project. The one that lasts the entire semester. The one you were dreading.

Your stomach sinks. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It must be fate,” he says, winking.

You stare at him for a long moment.

Then you turn around and walk away.

This time, you do look back.

Only once.

He’s still standing there, smiling like he knows something you don’t.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You don’t think about Jimin for the rest of the day.

Well. You try not to.

You tell yourself he’s just like the background noise in the halls. Unavoidable, sure, but not worth tuning into. The kind of boy who floats through life with too many numbers in his phone and not enough sincerity in his voice.

It works. For a little while.

Until you check your email.

Subject: “Group 4 - Semester Project Guidelines”

From: Professor Lee

You skim the list. Timeline, expectations, deliverables. Midterm presentation. Final paper. Weekly check-ins. The same grueling structure as every other group project, but now with the added headache of Park Jimin.

You close the tab and exhale slowly.

You can handle this. You can stay professional. You can survive one semester of proximity without getting pulled into the whirlpool of his attention.

Probably.

Your phone buzzes.

Unknown number.

You hesitate.

Then unlock it.

** :

hey partner ;)

just read the email. u free this week?

You blink. Then frown.

Did he save your number? How did he even get it?

You:

How did you get my number?

Jimin:

class group chat.

ur profile pic is cute btw

You groan into your hands.

You:

We should meet to go over the project.

Jimin:

u asking me out?

You:

I will block you.

Jimin:

damn

okay okay

i’m free thursday after 3

You:

Library. Second floor. Study rooms in the back.

Jimin:

sounds hot

see u then.

You toss your phone onto your bed like it personally betrayed you.

This is going to be a long semester.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

Thursday comes faster than expected.

You arrive ten minutes early. You wanted time to pick a quiet corner, open your laptop, and steel yourself for whatever version Jimin decides to show up as.

You’ve seen him on campus since that first day. Laughing with friends near the art building. Leaning against vending machines like they’re props in a music video. Walking out of the business department with his sleeves rolled up and a girl giggling beside him.

He hasn’t noticed you again. Or maybe he has, and he’s just letting you think otherwise.

You pick a room with glass walls but enough distance from foot traffic to feel semi-private. You pull up the project brief. You outline a few tasks, researching presentation, slide formatting, and even sketch a rough schedule.

At 3:10, the door opens.

And there he is.

Late, of course. But somehow, still managing to look like he owns the place.

“Hey, scholar,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you like he’s been here a thousand times before.

You don’t look up. “We’re already behind.”

“Chill,” he says, propping his chin on his hand. “We’ve got time.”

You risk a glance.

He’s wearing a fitted white tee under a soft denim jacket, a chain around his neck, and an expression that says he’s more entertained by you than the actual assignment.

You shut your laptop.

“Let’s get something straight,” you say quietly. “I don’t care what people say about you, or how you act with them. This project matters to me. So if you’re going to flirt or screw around, go do it somewhere else.”

There’s a long pause.

Then he laughs.

“Damn,” he says, eyes shining. “You’re serious.”

You stare at him, unmoving.

“I like that.”

You blink. “You like that I don’t like you?”

“Kind of.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You’re not pretending. Most people do. Smile at me, laugh at everything I say, then talk shit the second I leave. But you? You’re honest.”

“I’m not being honest,” you mutter. “You’re just annoying.”

“Same thing.”

You open your laptop again.

“This is due in three phases. First milestone is a week from Monday.”

He nods, finally matching your tone. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

You blink.

You’d half expected him to push back. Dodge responsibility. Fake an emergency. But he’s watching you instead, waiting for directions, like this actually matters.

“You’re good at presenting,” you say cautiously.

“Sure am,” he says with a wink.

You roll your eyes. “Then start outlining the first section.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You spend the next forty-five minutes working side by side.

To your surprise, he’s focused. Not perfect, but present. He asks questions. Types faster than you’d expect. Doodles a little in the margins of the shared doc, but nothing disruptive.

At one point, your knees brush under the table. You freeze. He doesn’t move.

You scoot your chair back slightly. He hides a smile behind his water bottle.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

When you finally wrap up the session, your head is spinning.

Because it went fine. Better than fine, actually.

And Jimin..he was still Jimin. A little smug, a little too pretty for his own good, but also unexpectedly thoughtful. Capable. Collaborative.

As you gather your things, he watches you quietly.

“Are you always like this?” he asks.

You glance up. “Like what?”

“Quiet.”

You pause. Then zip your bag.

“Only around people I don’t trust.”

His smile falters just for a second.

Then he nods. “That’s fair.”

You think that’s the end of it. You turn to leave.

But just before you reach the door, he calls out.

“Hey.”

You glance back.

You notice him hesitate before speaking, and then he quietly shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

You don’t answer.

You just walk away.

But your chest feels heavier than before.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You don’t think about Jimin that night.

Not exactly.

It’s more like the memory of him clings to you. His voice low and smooth, his eyes cutting sideways with something unreadable, that ridiculous smirk when he caught you flustered. It settles behind your ribs, heavy but soft, like the feeling of knowing a storm is coming before the clouds even form.

And the worst part?

You can’t even tell if you’re annoyed or intrigued.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The days after pass strangely.

Your paths don’t cross again right away. Not on campus, not in your shared lecture, not even by accident. He’s absent for the next class, and the seat beside you stays empty.

It should feel like relief.

But it doesn’t.

You try not to look at the door when it opens late. You try not to check your phone. You try not to notice how the second-row seat next to yours suddenly feels colder.

He messages you late that night.

Jimin:

sorry i missed class

had to meet w/ my advisor

what’d i miss?

You:

Not much. Notes in the drive.

Jimin:

ur an angel

i owe u one

You:

You owe me finishing the presentation on time.

Jimin:

oh come on

i was hoping u’d say dinner 😔

You stare at your screen.

You:

That’s not happening

Jimin:

not yet

You don’t reply after that.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You meet again the next week to work, same room, same seats.

And it’s easier this time.

There’s less tension in the air. Less suspicion in your chest. You’re not sure if it’s him who’s different or if you’re just adjusting to the strange pull of his presence.

He still flirts. But it’s not aggressive. Not forceful. It’s light. Teasing. More like he’s testing the edges of your resistance than trying to tear it down.

And he’s annoyingly good at this project.

His ideas are sharp, and he’s articulate when he presents them. He’s not afraid of speaking, not hesitant about taking the lead and he listens when you challenge him.

Really listens.

Somewhere in the second hour, he starts chewing on the tip of a pen while thinking through a citation. You don’t mean to look. You really don’t.

But your eyes drift.

And your chest does that thing again. That traitorous, fluttering thing that makes your spine straighten and your jaw tighten, like you can scare the feeling out of your body if you’re stiff enough.

He catches you.

He doesn’t say anything. Just glances up slowly, meets your eyes, and raises a single brow.

You look away first, your cheeks heating up.

He chuckles to himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The moment you realize you’re in trouble doesn’t hit you all at once.

It’s slow. Subtle.

It’s in the way you start dressing a little more carefully on the days you might see him. It’s in the way you think about what to say before you open the chat. It’s in the fact that his voice, his dumb, drawling, overconfident voice is now unmistakably stored in your head.

It’s in the fact that, even when you’re not around him, you still feel like you are.

You don’t like him.

You remind yourself of that every time he texts. Every time his knee bumps yours in the study room. Every time he tells you that you’re “different” and “smart” and “the only girl who talks to him like he’s not a goddamn Disney prince.”

You don’t like him.

But he’s becoming harder to ignore.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The rain came suddenly.

You hadn’t planned to study. The week’s been long, the assignment is mostly done, and your bed is calling like a siren song. But Jimin texts you around 7 p.m.

Jimin:

hey

it’s pouring

power went out in my apartment

library’s still open, right?

You:

It is. You need help?

Jimin:

nah. just don’t wanna sit in the dark.

u coming?

You:

I wasn’t planning on it

Jimin:

come keep me company

promise i’ll behave

You:

That would be a first.

Jimin:

pls? 🥺

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You go.

You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s boredom. Maybe it’s the tiny voice in your chest that’s been curious ever since he first smiled at you in that lecture hall seat.

Whatever it was, you listened to it and went.

He’s waiting near the back tables. Hoodie pulled up, earbuds in, slouched over his laptop. He looks up when he sees you and smiles like he knew you’d come.

“Hey, scholar.”

“You owe me coffee.”

He chuckles. “Next time. Pinky swear.”

You sit beside him. Close. Closer than before.

The library is nearly empty, most students aren’t desperate enough to be here on a rainy Friday night and for once, the world does feel quiet.

Time stretches differently.

You work in silence for a while. Until your screens start to dim, your shoulders relax, and the only sound is the low hum of storm outside.

Eventually, you glance over.

He’s staring ahead, but not at his screen. His eyes are soft. Distant. Like he’s somewhere else entirely.

“Jimin?” you say softly.

He blinks and turns towards you.

He doesn’t smile.

“Can I ask you something?” he says after a beat.

You nod.

“Do you think people can change?”

You’re not expecting the question.

It sits heavy in the space between you.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “If they want to.”

He’s quiet.

Then, so softly you almost miss it.

“Even someone like me?”

You stare at him.

And for the first time, you realize that he doesn’t actually believe the answer.

But maybe he wants to.

The moment stretches too long.

You could say something. You could ask him why he’s asking. You could tease, deflect, ignore it completely.

But when the world is quiet and it’s just the two of you, alone in a forgotten corner of the library with the rain against the windows and the hum of electricity in the air, something shifts.

You don’t say anything.

You just reach out, gently, and hand him your last piece of gum.

His smile returns.

But this time, it’s different.

Softer.

Real.

And you think that you may have started to lose the battle you were never meant to fight.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

notes: haiiii !! i want to be clear that this is my first story I’ve written since.. 2021? So I apologize if its not the best right now, I’m a bit rusty lol.

I’m super excited to be starting this story. I was thinking about it and I think I’ll do maybe 5-6 parts, (7 maximum though). I hope you stick around for the story!

Likes, comments, reblogs, asks & feedbacks are appreciated. Thank you! <3

tags: @pjmxxjmdipity @osakis-gf @graydolan12

[persphonesorchid]

Minisode: Jimin

Notes: hehehe 😭 Jimin has finally made it to my blog in his own fic y'all

Warnings: MC and Jimin are drunk

Jimin's head feels light, despite the fact that he's perfectly capable of holding his liquor, and the promise that you could hold yours as well, you both cling to eachother as you stumble towards his apartment door in a fit of high pitched giggles.

He doesn't even know what you're laughing at, but something about the sound makes him giggle too as he fumbles to press his finger against the keypad on his door. You're leaning heavily against him, your arm wrapped around his own, and he stares at the lock with his finger hovering over it.

"Gimme a sec." Jimin abandons trying to remember the code, mind too fuzzy with the drinks he had to even hold his hand steady. He fishes for his keycard in your purse, digging past your house keys and both your phones to find it tucked in the little inner pocket. He smiles drunkenly as he presses the chip to the scanner, and pushes the door when it clicks open, herding you in first and trying to make sure you don't trip over your own feet. He's not as drunk as you are, but way past tipsy.

You plop down in the entryway, fingers tackling the straps of your heels with an expression that tells Jimin you're concentrating really hard to do so. He helps, batting your hands gently away to pull the straps from the little buckle at your ankle, and then pulling you to your feet.

"I'm never drinking with you again." You groan, as Jimin nudges house slippers to you with a soft laugh, "I should've stopped at the first soju bomb."

"You said you could keep up, not my fault." Jimin toes his shoes off his feet, sliding them into the fluffy comfort of his house slippers. He steps over the raised platform that leads towards the living room and kitchen, a hand holding your arm to keep you steady as you follow. "Easy."

He watches as you carefully lift a leg, your eyes not even open and he guides you forward. He leads you towards the kitchen, sits you down at the island where you press your cheek against the cool marble with a sigh. You grumble something that Jimin can't decipher, and he passes you a bottle of water.

"What?" He asks, brushing your hair away from your face with a gentle hand. You peek an eye open, the movement of your hand taking the bottle from him looking like it took more effort than it should. Your limbs weighed down by the alcohol running through your bloodstream. You sigh heavily as you drag yourself to sit straight, head lolling forward.

"It's cold in here." You slur, the fingers of your other hand curling around the cap of the bottle, but you're squeezing the bottle too tight and Jimin knows it'll spill if you crack the seal.

He takes the bottle and opens it for you, pressing it back into your hand with a chuckle, "It's not. You're anemic." He moves to turn the heat up anyway, as fall is on the cusp and the nights aren't as warm anymore when the sun takes its warmth as it sets.

He comes back to the kitchen to find you've barely taken a sip of the water and you're most definitely asleep.

"Y/n..." He dips his fingers into your hair, coaxing you out of the sleep that hasn't yet deepened too much to give him trouble to rouse you. "Drink the water, you can't sleep at the counter."

You groan, lifting your head with much effort and taking enough sips of the water until Jimin's satisfied and you're pushing the water away.

"Let's get you to bed, c'mon." He guides you carefully off the chair, and towards his bedroom.

Jimin laughs under the sound of you starting to sing a song, very off-key and loud, clinging to him as you stumble along. He guides you carefully to his bedroom, letting you flop face first into his bed with a loud groan, your singing tottering off into incoherent mumbles of what Jimin believes is the song. He fishes through his drawers, finding clothes for you to wear, and turns to find you already halfway out your dress.

"Y/n!" Jimin covers his eyes with the tee-shirt he holds, he stretches a hand blindly forward, keeping his hand at your shoulder level. "You can't just...take this."

He shakes the tee-shirt and boxer shorts at you, his other hand coming up to cover his eyes even though they're tightly shut. You're giggling at something, fingers brushing his when you take the clothes from it, and in the quiet that follows, he wonders if you could hear his heart kicking against his ribs.

"M'done." You say and Jimin uncovers his eyes to find you fully dressed. He cleans the smudged make-up off your face with a couple of wipes, but when he tries to pull away you wrap your arms around his neck. He's forced to steady himself with his palms on either side of your hips, sinking into the soft mattress, noses almost touching, he breathes your name.

"Mimi?" Your eyes are barely open, slightly red as you try to stay awake. Jimin tries to pull away but you've locked your hands behind his neck. "I think I'm drunk."

"Yes, you are." Jimin says softly, laughing, "and you should sleep, yeah?"

You nod, but don't let go, "I think I like you, too."

Oh, Jimin's heart staggers and then skips ahead, and when he pulls away this time, it's easy. He doesn't know what to say to that, with a warmth spreading from his chest to settle in his cheeks. He takes a breath and all the times he's daydreamed about this doesn't quite compare to this moment.

You're squinting at him, a pout on your bottom lip, and its something he'd rather talk to you about when you're both sober enough.

[jhugas]

‘Film yourself for me.’- Park Jimin

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Genre: smut

Pairing: bf! Idol! Jimin X afab! Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend misses you while he’s on tour, and he needed one thing from you…

Word count: ~1,5k

Warnings/tags: freaky FaceTime, masturbation (m&f), clit play, fingering, mention of creampie, they cum 2gether, eye contact, nicknames like ‘good girl’-‘baby’…

Ps: this was inspired by the fake sub of his vlive ‘film yourself for me’.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Your boyfriend is so far from you, he had left a week ago for his World Tour and he’s currently in Los Angeles.

He asked you if you wanted to come with him, but his parents insisted that you should come to Busan and enjoy little vacations. Moreover, they said they’d make you visit beautiful places here, like they do every time.

So after talking with Jimin, you thought it’d be better to spend some time in Busan and with his family.

Today you spent the whole day with Jimin’s father. First, he brought you to his cafe and offered you thousands of drinks and bakeries. Then, he brought you to his friends’ restaurant for dinner, where you were able to talk with Jimin’s father along with his mother.

They both loved you very much, so much that all they talked about the whole night, was you and Jimin’s future.

‘So, when will he propose?’

‘Your babies will be the cutest!!’

‘Don’t tell me he never bought any ring!!’

‘I love how cute you are, you are the perfect woman for my son~’

And so on…

They were the cutest though, supporting you no matter what and defending you all of the time.

Since they always wanted a daughter but never got one, they considered you their ‘heart daughter’.

Their biggest dreams were attending yours and Jimin’s wedding, and seeing your kids grow up.

And now you’re back to your place, a luxury apartment in front of the gorgeous Busan beach, that Jimin rented just for you.

He was so caring, always making sure you were safe and comfortable. He couldn’t help but buy you luxury things to make you the happiest possible. Indeed, he loves to spoil you.

But you know what else he loves? Getting spoiled by you, in any way possible. And tonight, he FaceTimed you and said ‘film yourself for me.’

It wasn’t the first time he asked you things like this, so it wasn’t a surprise, especially when you know that he can’t stay away from you for more than five hours without missing you.

In the FaceTime, he had his shining blond hair, black tshirt and an obvious smirk on his face. He also had this raspy, flirty voice he uses to get you.

He adds after ‘Don’t forget to not mute baby, I wanna hear your pretty voice and whimpers. And don’t be shy to be loud…’

His voice is deep and quiet, almost whispering to you, still with this smirk and siren eyes.

These moments felt so intimate.

It’s just the way you trusted each other so much that you’d ask and send nudes to each other that made you feel butterflies.

He has never leaked anything, saved anything without your consent, nor shared them with anyone. He was truly a person of trust, and in exchange, he sent you his.

Waking up at 3am just to see that Jimin has sent you a picture of his dick in erection, or a video of him busting a nut, was the best feeling.

His dick somehow, was the only one that didn’t repulse you.

It had an amazing shape, perfect proportions and had pretty colours, it just looked so clean and tasty.

And you loved to touch it, it felt too good under your touch.

You now decide to set up the phone against the pillow in selfie while Jimin watches you in FaceTime, and get in front of it. After you heard his request, your mind went wild and you could feel yourself already getting wet, you missed him a lot.

You place yourself as far as needed to fit your head and ass in the same frame, and look at Jimin one last time before turning your back to him, and sliding your fingers in your pants, before pushing them down teasingly to slowly reveal your ass, involuntarily making it jiggle.

Then, you took them off entirely and started playing with the lace of your panties. You sensually swayed your hips left and right as you pulled them up, making them enter in between your cheeks, before finally pulling them down and exposing your bare ass as you still had your top on.

You don’t forget to bend over right after, making him see your asshole and pussy with your cheeks wiggling on their own.

‘Such a good girl…’ he says under his breath. He loved to praise you in these moments.

‘All open and naked for me…’ he says after you brought your ass closer to the camera.

Now that you’ve revealed your ass successfully, you turned back to face the camera, and slowly opened your legs, giving Jimin a better look at your wet cunt.

You wanted to start slowly, grabbing your thighs, caressing close to your pussy and getting closer and closer to it, but you couldn’t lose any more time. You spread your lips with your fingers, then finally brought them where you needed them the most, your clit.

You draw small circles on it, gathering your wetness from your cunt then bringing them back to your clit.

Meanwhile, your eyes are slowly closing from the pleasure, but when you opened them again and looked up, you saw something you deeply needed, Jimin massaging his boner through his pants.

‘Having fun, sir?’ You tell him with a smile on your face.

‘Of course princess.’ He answers in a second.

So you keep going, making circles and swaying your fingers left and right on it to change.

The heat in between your legs is growing, and the need to be filled gets bigger. Right now you’re getting so much pleasure that your legs are closing by themselves despite them getting weaker and weaker.

You moan quietly, trying not to rush things… but it’s hard when Jimin’s looking at you like he could eat you raw. He looks at you with his pretty eyes traveling from your face to your pussy, with his plump lips parted and his hot breath sliding in between them.

‘Don’t do this to me…’ he says breathlessly.

‘Do what?’ you ask him.

‘Don’t try to be quiet like that… I know you can be louder. Express yourself baby. Your moans are the hottest things in the world.’ he says in his husky voice.

You answer a shy ‘m’kay…’ and get back to your business while your orgasm gets closer and closer.

But Jimin caught your attention again when he let a ‘fuck baby…’ leave his lips as he got his cock out, giving you a free show.

His cock was full and ready, screaming for some relief and touch, but it knows nothing will ever get close to how your pussy feels like.

Then he started pumping himself, spreading his precum on his length as he holds it as tight as your cunt feels like.

You moan at his facial expression, oh how you wished you could capture his wet lips shivering and him rolling his eyes back.

‘You’re so hot…’ slips out of your lips, almost bleeding because of how hard you’re biting them.

‘Need more… I need…’ you also manage to say. You need something inside you, something big that’ll fill you, and you what used to do that? Jimin’s cock.

It filled you up entirely, stuffing his cum in your cunt repeatedly with his tip.

‘Put them inside you, slide your fingers in.’ He orders behind his screen, his hand moving faster and his tip getting redder, as he quickly takes off his tshirt.

You immediately listen and get your fingers close to your entrance, teasing the edge and sliding in the tip of them first, before sliding them entirely and pushing them in and out while fantasizing about his dick.

You reach your sweet spot with your sweet fingers, and hit it continuously, your orgasm getting closer and stronger each second.

‘Ugh-I’m close… let’s cum together baby…’ Jimin says with the strength he has left, his balls screaming for relief as his precum drips down his cock from his soaking wet tip.

‘Yes…’ you say with a higher voice than usual, your walls tightening around your fingers.

Your moans are shamelessly loud, and so are Jimin’s. The only words that were leaving his mouth till he came was your name accompanied by some swear words.

And here is the moment you wanted for so long, too long now. Your orgasm reaches your brain, and you cum hard all over your fingers making it drip down from your hole.

Meanwhile, you keep eye contact with Jimin, as his hair falls on his forehead and his thick white cum reaches his stomach, then slides down his length to his balls.

Your eyes close by themselves but you know Jimin needs to see you looking at him so you try your best to stay awake, before finally coming down from your high, and collapsing down on the bed.

He’s still watching you carefully, making sure he gets his entire load out, before him too, slowly calming down.

‘That’s my good girl, isn’t it?’ he asks in a deep voice.

‘It is… I’m yours…’ you whisper back.

Later, he cleaned his cum off of his stomach, dick and bed, wished you good night and sweet dreams, then said ‘I love you.’ before leaving the call.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are very nice and appreciated. Thank youuu

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